The night is ending, and guests can barely barely wrap up their conversations. Numbers are exchanged as new friends make plans to meet again for lunch, or coordinate a date for a future Supra. They might not know where the other is going to work on Monday, but they know about each others’ old family stories, the things that bring them the deepest joy, and what makes them laugh hysterically. Hugs all around as people finally say goodbye. The big lonely city that they all inhabited as anonymous automatons is now a little smaller, a little cozier, a little more like home.

This is how community Supras end, almost every time: strangers becoming friends over one dinner party.

The Stats Say We’re Low on Friendship

According to a study by OnePoll and Evite, the average American has not made a new friend in five years. The same study found that 42 percent of adults struggle to make friends, and 82 percent feel that lasting friendships are hard to find. It’s no secret that we’re living through a loneliness epidemic.

We exist in a society that is shockingly terrible at bringing people together. But as we drift apart into our self-sufficient pods, we feel it. We want friendships and real connection, not just shallow schlop. We want people who we don't have to pretend to be perfect around. We just want to be real.

Where to find these sorts of friendships, though, in this fast-paced and digital world? Bars? Platonic dating apps? Networking events? Concerts?

In theory, making friends is possible any time and any where, but the statistics show that the spaces available to us for forging friendships aren’t that effective.

The Ancient Way of Getting Real

But when people come to a community Supra, a tradition which predates this loneliness epidemic by about 2,000 years, the story unfolds differently.

What is it about the Supra that makes dinner with strangers so natural?

For starters, there’s an old phrase in Georgia that goes something like, “A stranger is a gift from God.” If you ever have the chance to travel to Georgia, you will hear this a lot. And this one phrase tells you everything you need to know; when it’s written on your heart that strangers are divine messengers, you will treat them with the utmost hospitality. You’ll fill a table with your best food, and their glasses with your best vintage. You’ll share with them your best stories from the most sincere recesses of your heart. You’ll praise their virtue because you know that a gift from God is virtuous, and you’ll invite them to speak so that their divine message may be delivered. In brief, you’ll invite them to a Supra.

The people of the Republic of Georgia have been doing Supras for millenia. The tides of time, and the sincerity of their hearts have forged an incredibly simple yet profound way of bringing friends and strangers together at one table. And this ancient expression of hospitality is breathing life into American friendships today, in Seattle and all over the country.

How a Supra Turns Strangers into Friends

On most Fridays or Saturdays in Seattle, 20 strangers show up at glassybaby’s event space in Madrona. The demographics vary a good amount: a group of three 30-year old women, some couples who have been married for many years, and others who are on a second or third date. A good handful of individuals who will surely have more friends by the time they leave, and a group of four friends celebrating a birthday party.

They all arrive and sit at one long table, full of colorful and abundant dishes of Georgian food, served family-style. At the head of the table sits the toastmaster, called the ‘Tamada’ in Georgian. The Tamada is the host of the event, and it’s his job to offer excellent hospitality and create an inviting atmosphere.

The Tamada opens the evening with a toast, usually to gratitude. For example, “Here’s to gratitude: It’s easy to go through the motions of life in such a hurry that we never slow down to savor the incredible gifts all around us. Just right here, look at this, there’s a table full of food, our glasses are full, there are some people we love and some people who we will soon know very well. This will very well mark the first day of long-lasting friendships with people we haven’t even met yet. May we see each moment as an opportunity to be grateful. I’m grateful to be here with you all.”

The toasts of a Supra are not scripted, which is why the gathering becomes so authentic. The Tamada leads the way and shows everyone how to open up in front of strangers, through his example. In a short time, the Tamada will offer a new toast, maybe to peace, or to home, or to new experiences. The Tamada perceives the spirit of the room, and speaks to it. Not every Supra looks the same, and the Tamada never quite knows the next toast or the direction that the Supra will take.

With each toast that the Tamada delivers, he invites all the guests at the table to offer a toast of their own, on the theme he has presented. At first, guests are usually hesitant to speak up in front of an intimidating group of strangers. But then, without fail, someone takes the risk.

“Tamada, may I give a toast?”

Everyone watches in awe as the guinea pig offers a few simple words. But those words do something to the rest of the group; they show everyone else that standing up and being vulnerable, and saying something of import that didn’t require rehearsal, is really, really satisfying.

So some time goes by, and somebody else volunteers to give a toast. People listen attentively, laugh with understanding, and clink glasses with enthusiasm.

Before long, the toasting won’t stop. Each toast generates conversation, and conversation generates toasts. And the best part is that people are not speaking from their résumé, or their PhD, or their insecurities. Résumés don’t make friends, people do.

And truly, by the end of the night, friendships have formed. Guests can barely barely wrap up their conversations as they exchange phone numbers. The city that was once big and lonely is now a little more like home.

But don’t take it from me – here are just a handful of snippets from Google reviews by real people who experienced the connective power of the community Supra in Seattle:

The people who gathered together were open and genuinely lovely; it was a wonderful contrast to our cumbersome “Seattle Freeze.” We talked and laughed, and by the end of the night, it felt like the beginning of our own, little community. — Andrea C

I went solo and felt completely welcomed from the moment I walked in. The communal atmosphere made it easy to connect with a wide mix of local people, and I ended up having some of the most engaging conversations I’ve had in a long time. Beyond the food (which was fantastic), I left with fun stories, interesting local insights, and even a few new friends. — Jamie Z

We left feeling deeply connected — both to the culture and to so many wonderful new people we met around the table. It was a beautifully intimate, thoughtful experience that we’ll never forget. — Alison M

I left feeling nourished in every way. I feel confident the connections I made will turn into lasting friendships. — Leiha D

So, how do you have dinner with strangers? It’s simple. Come to a Supra.